Summary: Back to being chronological, this takes place at the end of the series. We're also back to Gunnar's POV, after his date with Julie. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Still don't own them, even if I do keep thinking of new stuff to do with them.

Author's Note: This is at least the final segment in the series to take place immediately around the Jr. Goodwill Games. I may have more in the works for an epilogue of sorts, but no promises at this point. Enjoy!

Sympathy for the Icelanders: Part VII

Go From Here

Before he left the practice rink this morning, Mikael had slipped a note into my equipment bag, giving me the details of where he was staying in Los Angeles. I had tucked the information away and, after Julie's arrival, not given it a second thought until she and I had said a pleasantly long goodbye. I then wandered the streets by myself for a while, reflecting.

Julie and I had spent a full but quiet day together, talking about hockey and life in general and simply enjoying each other's company. The mood between us had been surprisingly comfortable and natural that entire time; after all, I suppose nothing could have been more uncomfortable than the night we'd spent together inside that freezing storage room a few days prior.

I had kept expecting her to cut our date short with the excuse of needing to rejoin her victorious teammates, but she'd never given any indication that there was someplace else she would rather be. In fact, she had seemed as reluctant as I was to part ways at the end of the evening, and she had only done so for fear of being caught out after curfew.

Personally, I wasn't about to be intimidated by something so simple – not now that the tournament itself was over. Still, I was tired, and Julie herself had all but ordered me to get some sleep for once; I would have to settle in for the night eventually. I knew I should probably go back to my teammates, even if most of them were likely to be asleep by the time I got there.

But after inventing the excuse that I didn't want to disturb my friends by coming in so late, I plowed ahead in my chosen path of avoidance and fished Mikael's note out of my pocket. While not exactly around the corner, his hotel was within walking distance. Twenty minutes later, I was knocking on the door to his room number.

He answered the door a generous number of seconds later, dressed in a T-shirt and loose sweatpants. I don't think he had been asleep quite yet, although he might have been close to it. I honestly hadn't been sure if he would even be back in his room yet; apparently he must not have wanted to stay out too late, considering how early he'd gotten up to find me this morning.

He leaned against the doorframe and stared at me in silence for a long moment before passing a hand over his eyes.

"Go on," I prompted, "just say it."

"Gunnar, what are you doing here?"

"You said I could stay here."

"I meant this morning."

"Well, I'm here now, so are you really going to throw me out?"

"No," he sighed, stepping aside so I could enter. "But it's half past midnight; don't you kids have a curfew or something?"

"Yes, but what are they really going to do about it now? It's not like they can suspend me from playing time anymore."

He swore softly. "I guess that would explain why your coach was freaking out. At first, I thought that was him at the door, and I don't know if I could have stopped myself from taking a swing at him."

When I only frowned at that, he explained, "Wolf has been on my case all day, asking me if I knew where you were. I don't know how many different ways I could have told him that I hadn't seen you since early this morning, but I'm sure you were just fine. He should have asked Olaf where you were."

I froze, suddenly nervous. "I asked Olaf not to tell him."

"I know, and he didn't; but that didn't stop him from telling me. Speaking of which…"

Here he reached out and cuffed me hard across the back of the head, entirely without warning.

"Ouch! What the hell is wrong with you?" I growled, surprised and smarting.

"That's from Olaf. He told me to hit you for him the next time I saw you."

"Nice." I rubbed my head gingerly. "Next time, you should make him do it himself."

"It would probably hurt more coming from him; remember, I'm not the one who's actually mad at you."

I found that difficult to believe. "You mean it doesn't bother you at all that I was with her today?"

"Not really." He shrugged. "More than anything, I was happy to hear that you'd actually listened to my advice and gotten yourself a date for the evening. Or for the whole day, as it turned out."

I didn't have the stomach to carry on this conversation right now, but thankfully, he seemed more interested in getting back to bed. Without bothering to ask for permission, I started rummaging through his open suitcase until I'd found some clothes that would be more comfortable for sleeping. Mikael may be taller than me, but these would fit well enough.

I quickly changed and settled in next to him, grateful for the room's king size bed. We've both been known to toss and turn in our sleep, and I didn't much care for the thought of him accidentally smacking me in the face sometime during the night (which has happened before). I didn't anticipate having a restless night myself, though, considering I remembered nothing after my head hit the pillow.

We were both startled awake hours later when the room's telephone phone rang. I groaned, squinted at the digital clock, and read that it was just shy of five thirty in the morning. Mikael must not have been fully awake either, because he answered the phone groggily in Icelandic; evidently, that wasn't an issue for the person on the other end. I listened with half a weary ear to my brother's side of the conversation.

"What? Yes, relax, he's here; he stopped by late last night. No, no, he's fine. Don't worry, I'll have him back to you in time to make the trip to the airport." And then he hung up without another word.

"You just hung up on Coach," I murmured.

"Yeah – and I probably enjoyed it way more than I should have."

I must have smiled a little at that before falling back to sleep.

Apparently I slept like a rock again, because when I woke up next, Mikael was gone. However, there was a note in his handwriting left on the nightstand by my head.

Go back to sleep, you still look like death. I'll come back for you before lunch.

-M.

Amazing how he could be so thoughtful, yet insulting, all in the same short sentence. Before lunch. That would leave me at least a couple more hours to sleep before he returned, and I intended to utilize every minute.

Mikael was back in the room by the time I got out of the shower.

Rather than greeting me, he commented, "Good, you look like a human being again. How did you manage to keep that poor girl from running away from you yesterday?"

When I didn't deign to answer him, he handed me my clothes from yesterday and urged me, "Come on, now, get dressed; I found this authentic little Mexican restaurant that I want to try out for lunch."

The food was good, although I wasn't in a pleasant enough mood to fully enjoy it. When Mikael finished well before me, he started shamelessly eating the guacamole off my plate; I responded in kind by finishing the last of his margarita. He raised an eyebrow but made no move to stop me.

"So," he began around a mouthful of my food, "are you ready to go back now?"

I offered an apathetic shrug. "I suppose…but that doesn't mean I'm looking forward to it. You said yourself last night that Olaf is still angry with me, and I know the others will follow his example."

It was nice talking to him openly in Icelandic, knowing that not a single person within earshot of us would have the slightest idea what we were saying.

"Just give your friends time. I'm sure Olaf will come around, and then, like you said, the others will follow his lead. They'll get over it, especially if you keep playing hard back home; and if any of them don't get over it, then you don't need people like that as your friends."

Once again, I was forced to admire his characteristic independence; not that his little lecture was making me feel much better about myself. "I am still an idiot, though, aren't I? Spending all day with a girl I'll probably never see again and making all my teammates hate me in the process."

"Since the tournament is over, I don't think it makes any difference who you spend your time with; but that's just my opinion. Is there any chance you can see her again today?"

"No," I responded glumly, staring down at my now-empty plate. "They were supposed to leave this morning."

"Do you actually like her? Or were you just feeling sort of desperate yesterday?"

I answered quickly, "No, I really do like her – a lot, even. We were together all day, and I think we both wished it could have been for a whole week instead. I got her address and phone number yesterday, but that just makes everything more complicated and confusing. I have no idea where things are supposed to go from here."

Mikael seemed to think on that awhile. "If you truly like her that much, then you should do everything you can to keep in touch with her, and hope that you have a chance to see her again sometime sooner rather than later. If you don't think it would be worth the effort over time to keep in touch, then don't even start; it'll be easiest for both of you that way. But in any case, if you ever start lying to her or leading her on, you'd just better hope I don't find out about it. All right?"

My brother has a way of keeping of things simple and straightforward, which I appreciated at the time. However, I could tell by the look in his eye that he was being perfectly serious about that last part, so I nodded. "Yeah, I got it."

"Good. In that case, I wish you the best of luck. She is pretty, and I think you two would look good together. Just imagine the beautiful blonde babies, all skating and playing hockey before they can even walk."

I rolled my eyes; now there was the teasing I'd been expecting from him all along. I swear, between him and Olaf, it's amazing I'm not insane by now. It did make me smile, though, in spite of everything.